


Don't Threaten Me With Halloween (But Do Tempt Me)

by halfsweet



Series: Parallel AU [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 05:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8358583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: Brendon and Patrick go shopping for Halloween costumes. Brendon's enthusiastic about it. Patrick's not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this fic is inspired by [A (St)Roll Through the Park](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8273711) by [slpblue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/slpblue/pseuds/slpblue) :) (go check out that fic! It's too pure for this world ahh)
> 
> I feel like Brentrick hell is growing bigger, and I, the self-proclaimed Queen™ of this hell, am /so/ proud :') We're like this small close-knit family and gosh you guys are awesome this is for you ily

Halloween. The only occasion where people can dress up in any characters they want. The only occasion where people can dress as silly as they want.

And, to Brendon, the only occasion where he can convince his dearly beloved to dress up in costumes.

Not including the ones in bedroom, of course.

"No, that's stupid." Patrick snorts when Brendon shows him a furry werewolf costume.

"You're right." Brendon frowns as he puts the costume back in its place and searches for another one. "Werewolves are overrated. We can cross that and vampires off the checklist."

"No, this whole thing is stupid. We're in our _thirties,_ Bren. Why do we need to celebrate Halloween?"

Brendon turns around and lets out a loud dramatic gasp, a hand splayed over his chest. "Okay. Babe? I'm going to pretend you did _not_ just say that."

Patrick rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, huffing, "What? It's true."

"Babe." Brendon places his hands on Patrick's shoulders, face all grim and serious. "You're _never_ too old for Halloween. I mean, look at Pete."

At Patrick's incredulous expression, Brendon puts on his infamous pout. One that he knows Patrick will never be able to say no to. "Please, babe? I love spending my _favourite_ day with my _favourite_ person. Whom I love. So very much."

"I thought your birthday was your favourite day." Patrick mutters under his breath, but when he drops his arms to his sides, Brendon knows he's won.

He smacks a kiss on Patrick's cheek - ignoring the other's surprised yelp - and continues to rummage through the clothes rack with even more enthusiasm than before. "Yeah. Gotta thank Pete for that birthday present. That was the _best_ night I've ever had."

A smirk tugs on the corner of his lips when Patrick's face turns red at the memories of what went down on the night of his birthday. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you didn't love it. I made you come, like-"

"Shh!" Patrick immediately shushes him and slaps his hand over Brendon's mouth, looking around the store frantically to see if there are people - or worse, _fans_ \- who can hear them. "You don't have to say it out loud!"

Brendon laughs at how red Patrick's face is. The blush even spreads to the tip of his ears.

He has to admit. It's a sight to behold.

He presses Patrick's hand to his mouth and kisses the palm, then smiles as he lowers their hands. "You look good in lace, by the way."

Still blushing fiercely, Patrick purses his lips and furrows his eyebrows in annoyance. "You're a brat."

"Takes one to know one." Brendon smirks before returning to his search for the perfect couples costume. "C'mon. Give me some ideas. I want us to win the best costume for DCD's party."

Patrick makes a high-pitched whining noise at the back of his throat. "Do we have to go?"

"Well, duh. Pete's my boss."

"Pete's your friend."

"He owns our label, babe. As much as I love you, I kinda need Panic to make a living."

"You have enough money to last you a lifetime." Patrick states matter-of-factly, his voice flat. " _I_ have enough money to last me a lifetime."

"Oh, psh." Brendon flaps his hand dismissively at his boyfriend, then cries out in triumph as he pulls out two costumes in his hand to show them to Patrick. "What do you think of these, babe?"

In his left, he's holding a Darth Vader costume, and in his right, he's holding a Star Trooper costume. He looks back to Patrick, raising his eyebrows. "Well?"

Patrick shakes his head and rests his weight on one foot as he folds his arms in front of his chest. "Nope. I think Joe's going as a character in Star Wars. I don't know which. I just overheard his conversation with Andy."

"That blows." Brendon frowns and hangs the costumes back in the rack. He walks to another section in the store and continues his search. Patrick hums lightly and trails after him, looking around the store. "But nice try, though. I like the Star Wars theme."

Brendon doesn't want _nice._ He wants more than that. He wants _perfect._ He wants to _win_ , damn it.

Well, Pete's the judge. And what better way to win a judge's vote other than…

With a grin, he takes a costume from the rack, showing it to Patrick with a flourish. "What about this, babe? I bet we can win the contest, hands down."

It's a Jack Skellington costume, complete with its black and white bow and striped suit, and Brendon even knows someone who can paint his face to finish off the look. He's going to nail this one _for sure._

Patrick's gaze shifts from the costume in his hand and back to him, a deadpanned look crossing his features. "Okay, that's just low."

Brendon pouts at him as he gives the costume a once-over. "What are you talking about? It's _perfect._ "

"It's _low,_ Bren. Using Pete's favourite character just to win-"

Brendon cuts him off with a frustrated groan as he shoves the costume back in the rack. He hates it when Patrick starts going on a rant about what's good and what not to do, and especially when he starts to include fucking _morals._

"Okay, okay." Brendon scowls when Patrick is still in the middle of his rant. "I won't do it again."

"Why do you want to win so much anyway?" Patrick asks, curious. "I don't think the prize is all that big. I don't think there's a prize _at all._ "

"Because-" Brendon sighs, exasperated. How is he going to explain it to Patrick without sounding so… so childish? He pauses. Then again, Patrick's already seen him at his worst, especially when Panic was just starting out. What with his bad haircut and bad fashion sense and his obsession with Caprisun. And yet, here Patrick is. Still in a relationship and in love with him. "Because I want to beat Dallon, okay? He always wins in costume contests, and I am _not_ going to let him win again this year."

Then, he adds again, pouting, "besides, the band agreed that whoever wins gets bragging rights until next year's party. And Dallon hasn't stopped rubbing it in my face since forever."

He turns to look at Patrick to observe his expression. The older man presses his lips together in thought before looking up at him. "So basically, you're being a sore loser."

Brendon glares at him and huffs. "No! I hate that he always wins! There's a difference."

"Wow. Who knew that the lead singer of Panic! at the Disco, Brendon Boyd Urie, is a sore loser," Patrick says with a teasing tone.

"Not." Brendon grits his teeth, wishing he can wipe the smirk off of his boyfriend's face. "A sore. Loser."

Patrick giggles softly and kisses under his jaw. "Don't worry, Bren. A brat or a loser, I still love you either way."

Brendon sighs quietly, all the annoyance drains out his body as Patrick continues to pepper small kisses on his jaw. "Love you too, even when you're being annoying."

Patrick pulls back with a smile, and he drags Brendon to the back of the store, a little secluded from others' view, and looks around at the various costumes hanging on the racks and the wall. "Come on. I'll help you look."

Just like that, Brendon's mood immediately lifts up, and he jumps to the nearest rack, skipping through it with much fervor. There are many costumes that catch his attention, but one in particular stands out the most.

 _Two,_ actually. Because it's a couples costume.

He takes out the Joker outfit first, showing it to his boyfriend, to which he gets an approving nod in return. "That's cool. I don't think anyone's going as Joker to the party."

"Awesome." Brendon grins and places the costume to the side, then shows Patrick another. "And guess who Joker's partner is?"

Patrick's face turns pale at the outfit, his eyes bulging wide and mouth hanging in shock. And a little bit in horror. _"No!"_

"Oh, come _on._ " Brendon coaxes him as he shoves an outfit consisting of a pair of bright red and blue shorts with a matching jacket, and of course, his favourite: a white baby-tee with _Daddy's Lil Monster_ printed on it.

And, well, the last bit doesn't even need an explanation, really, he snickers to himself.

"If you seriously think I'm going as Harley Quinn, _in that fucking outfit_ , then you're dead fucking wrong."

"Why not? C'mon, make Daddy proud." Brendon grins as he slaps Patrick's ass lightly, making him squeal.

"Wha- oh my god, that was _one_ time!" Patrick narrows his eyes at him and rubs the area where he slapped earlier. "You're the only one who's into that. What the hell."

Brendon smirks. "You keep saying that, babe. But we both know the truth."

He remembers clearly the moment when Patrick first called him _'Daddy'_. It was around the time when Fall Out Boy was already on hiatus, and Patrick was opening for Panic. He forgot how he managed to get Patrick to try it out, but it was one of the best nights he ever had.

And then there's also this one time during Save Rock and Roll tour. Patrick didn't realize - _didn't know_ \- that he moaned it out loud, and Brendon didn't tell him either. It's become his dirty little secret, and he keeps it locked in the deepest and in the most back part of his mind.

But, sometimes, Patrick would call him that whenever he wants him to do his bidding, because he knows how much Brendon is weak for it.

Which is unfair, but whatever. As long as Patrick calls him that again.

"Well, it's weird." Patrick glowers, eyebrows pulled together. "I'm older than you."

"So?"

"It's _weird._ " Patrick repeats, emphasizing on the word, then gives him a look that says _'What else is there to explain?'_

"It's _hot._ " Brendon counters, but Patrick rolls his eyes and walks away from him, stopping in front of a skeleton. He picks it up, fascinated, and giggles before turning to Brendon.

"Bren, look." Patrick grins, shaking the skeleton in his hand. "It's Skelly the Skeleton."

Brendon cringes as he shakes his head. "Okay, babe, _never_ say Skelly again. Even Pete wouldn't approve of that."

"But why?" Patrick smiles widely as he plays with the skeleton, raising its arm and waving it in Brendon's direction. "Bren, meet Skelly, your biggest fan."

"Babe." Brendon warns him.

"Skelly loves you, Brenny Boo." Patrick says in a baby voice while moving the skeleton's head to Brendon. "Please give Skelly a kiss?"

"Babe."

Patrick grins and continues. "Skelly is very happy to spend the day with Brenny Boo."

_"Babe."_

Patrick raises the skeleton up and spreads its arms. "Can Skelly have a big hug from _Daddy?_ "

"Okay, that's it." Brendon grabs the skeleton from him and puts it away- above a shelf, where he knows Patrick will never reach. "If we're throwing a Halloween party, I'm never taking you out shopping."

When he turns around, Patrick is doubling over in laughter, and his glasses is slipping down his nose. Brendon's face softens at the sight and sound of Patrick laughing. It's warm. It's soothing. It's comfort.

It's sitting in front of a fireplace during winter.

It's relaxing in a warm bubble bath after a tiring day.

And it's coming home after being away for a long time.

_It's Patrick._

"Sorry, Bren." Patrick wraps his arms around Brendon's waist and gives him a quick kiss, then dissolves into giggle fits. "It's cute seeing you getting all annoyed."

Brendon can't help but smile at Patrick. _Seriously, how did he get so lucky to have Patrick in his life?_

He cups Patrick's face and pulls him in for a slow and gentle kiss. Patrick lets out a small gasp into the kiss, surprised, but quickly melts into it as he lets Brendon take the lead.

It feels like their first kiss, when they both were still shy with one another. When they both were unsure of how their bandmates were going to react when they found out about them. When they both were terrified of the prying eyes and the gossips and the backlash that could cost them their bands and career in music.

Brendon doesn't know if it's a miracle or a wish come true or magic or whatever, but he's glad that their bands and fans still support them when they came out. They did receive some hate, but that didn't even amount to the love they received from everyone, so Brendon was thankful for that.

 _Still_ thankful.

Because, now, he still has his friends, his band, his music career.

And most importantly, he still has Patrick.

"What was that for?" Patrick asks, a small smile and pink blush decorating his face when they finally pull away.

"Nothing." Brendon answers him and caresses his cheek before leaning in to kiss him on the forehead. "I love you."

Patrick peeks from under his lashes, and he bites his lips, smiling bashfully. "I love you too."

And Brendon's heart flutters like it's the first time they say the three words to each other. He grins, kissing Patrick one last time for good measure, and picks up the abandoned Joker costume. "So, it's settled then. I'm going as Joker. We just need to find another outfit for you."

"Why can't we wear something nice? Like suits." Patrick suggests. "We can dress up as gentlemen."

"That's boring." Brendon scoffs. "How are suits going to win against costumes?"

"Well-" Patrick drawls, long and slow, and steps forward in Brendon's space after making sure no one is around to see them for the umpteenth time. He slides his hands up Brendon's chest before looping them around his neck and puts on a thoughtful look. "Have I ever told you how good you looked when you wore that one suit in Death of A Bachelor?"

Brendon gulps when Patrick runs his hand up and down his chest slowly. He looks around, in case people are watching them. There aren't that many people in the shop, and they're pretty much hidden from everyone's view, and even though he _really_ enjoys it when Patrick is being like this, but that doesn't mean he's all up for it in _public_.

"Babe-"

Patrick clicks his tongue and pulls him into one of the changing rooms, then locks the door, hands never leaving Brendon once, and proceeds to trap him against a wall. "You know how I get when you wear suits."

"J- Joker is- ah-" Brendon bites his lip to stifle his groan when Patrick trails kisses along his neck. "-also wearing a- a suit."

Patrick hums lowly, and his hands begin to travel downwards. "S'different. I like you in your own custom-made."

"I- I can-" Patrick slides his hand under Brendon's shirt, and his fingers trace above the buckle of his belt, making him hiss. " _Fuck._ I can get the costume c- custom-made."

"S'not the same." Patrick murmurs as he presses himself closer to Brendon. It's not much, but it's enough that it causes a discomfort in Brendon's pants. _Fuck. Where was_ this _Patrick when they were back at their house?!_

"B- Babe-"

"Let's just skip the party, Bren." Patrick continues with a soft voice that he always uses to coax Brendon to do things his way instead. "Pete won't mind."

"B- Babe." Brendon stutters when Patrick continues to play with the hem of his shirt, and his breath hitches when his fingers graze lightly against his skin. Patrick looks up at him with wide eyes, head tilted to the side innocently. "What, Bren? You want to skip DCD's party?"

Damn it. _How is he supposed to think straight when Patrick has his hand under his shirt?!_

"B- Babe." Brendon tries again as he closes his eyes to ignore the feeling of his boyfriend's wandering hands. "A- After. I promise. After they announce who wins b- best costume, w- we can skip the rest of the party, I _swear._ "

"Why not skip from the start?" Patrick noses along his neck before placing a light kiss on the area. "If we don't go, I promise I'll put on _anything_ you want me to wear. We can have our own party."

Oh shit. _Oh shit._

_Oh holy motherfucking shit._

This is a tough decision. Beat Dallon once and for all and gloat in his face for an entire year, or have Patrick wear whatever the hell he tells him to and give Dallon the chance to brag for yet another year?

Shit. Why is his life so _hard?_

"We can go all night long," Patrick whispers against the skin on his neck before moaning out a quiet, _"Daddy."_

Fuck it.

He switches their positions and slams Patrick up against the wall before kissing him roughly. He can feel Patrick's smirk through the kiss, and, _okay._

Patrick wins this round. But _next time_ , next year, he's going to win best costume, and he won't fall for his boyfriend's trick again.

Even if this is, like, the twentieth time Patrick's pulled the same strings in the past year.

Brendon pulls away from the kiss and latches onto the skin on the junction between Patrick's neck and shoulder, biting down on the sensitive area and hearing a sharp intake of breath from him.

"Fine. We'll skip the party, but you better make sure you have nothing planned the next day." He puts his knee between Patrick's legs, receiving a weak whimper from him, and he smirks when Patrick starts to grind against his thigh in desperation. Pulling away from the hickey he just made, he growls in his ear. "Because by the time I'm done with you, trust me, you're not gonna be able to even move from the bed."

Patrick mewls at that, and Brendon can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips. He gives one last kiss to a spot just below his ear- a special spot that makes Patrick weak at the knees. When he leans back, Patrick has his eyes squeezed shut, lips swollen and parted, and head tilted to the side as his face flushes scarlet down his neck and shirt. His chest is heaving up and down heavily, and he's even shivering a little. There's also a bluish purple circle just peeking from underneath the collar of his shirt.

Brendon smirks at the sight. They haven't even started, and yet Patrick's already looking like he just got thoroughly fucked. In a weird way, it comforts him, knowing that he's the only who can make Patrick come undone like this.

"C'mon, babe." Brendon finally says as he slides his hand around Patrick's waist to keep him steady on his feet. "How about you and I go home and watch some movies?"

"Y- Yeah." Patrick nods, still flustered and shaky, and leans into Brendon, clinging to the back of his shirt. "J- Just give me a minute."

Smiling, Brendon kisses the top of his head and pulls him into a hug. "No rush. We have all the time in the world."

Because with Patrick by his side, time just seems to stop for him. It doesn't matter where they are, or what they're doing - they can just stare at the walls for hours on end without talking to each other - and still Brendon won't trade even a tiny fraction of a second for anything.

As long as he's with Patrick.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some comments!


End file.
